Mad As a Hatter
by messerpadfootforever
Summary: "You will want to hush up, or else your daddy will only receive pieces of you, doll." The gravelly voice murmured in her ear. They didn't help her out of kindness. They did it to get to her family. Not a smart move. She never knew she could fall for someone so different. He never knew he could fall in love at all. The story behind scars and the growing crime rate. REVIEW PLEASE!
1. Mad as a Hatter

**Well I'm obsessed with Batman, so I decided to write this.**

**It popped into my head and had to write it!**

**Hope you like it, review and leave me your opinion, be nice please? :)**

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"Smile, you need to smile more, sweetheart." A husky, if not insane sounding, voice whispered in her ear.

She laughed, "I do smile, my love," her voice was happy, as it always was when talking to the man she loved. "You're just never around to see me, " her voice turned bitter mentioning his absence lately.

"Oh don't sound so sad, I'll help you put a smile on your face." He said suggestively, turning her body round to face him.

She took in his looks today, he had changed out of his work clothes, as she called them, and wore a purple button up shirt, with a loose green and purple polka dot tie, low slung faded grey jeans and green shoes.

He was truly mad as a hatter, although he removed his trademark makeup for the time being.

And for the hundredth time since meeting him, 2 years ago, Andrea was happy he had removed his 'mask' and let his guard down for her to see him for who he was.

Because the man she loved was standing in front of her, not the man going round trying to cause mayhem and robbing mob banks, or even hustling the hustlers.

The man she loved had opened himself up to her, without fearing her judgement or that she would ridicule him, he found joy in the simplest things, he had a distinct taste in clothes, he loved her with all he had.

She did not hate the other part of him, his dark side, she accepted it, because he had accepted her, and all that came with her, fixing her up and repairing her.

And for that she loved him most.

* * *

His mind, as usual was buzzing; his thoughts were like a wind up toy that upon being lifted from the ground mid run and placed somewhere different and allowed to run before being placed somewhere else entirely.

If anyone could hear his thoughts, they would either go insane, like many thought he had, or get confused because of the whirlwind of words and ups and downs and flips of his mental sentences, that never seemed to reach a conclusion or make any sense when he thought them over after they had escaped his mental mouth.

And all through his inner chaos, there was one person, who could stop everything that went on in his head, every mental mutter, every shard of speech.

Just with a look, she could silence his mental noise, stop his heart and tickle his stomach.

With anything more and he was sure he'd die, die of her love or lack of breathing.

"Like what you see, my lovely?" he smirked as she rested her head on his cheat and listened to his erratic heartbeat.

He felt her smile against his chest, and say, "Always do, my dear."

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**Well hope you liked it, and if you want, and if enough of you want it, I could turn it into a longer story? **

**Leave me a review if you think I should and message me if you have anything to say :) **


	2. Business Calls

**Thanks for the review, Zeny, it made me want to carry this on.**

**Plus, a friend is enjoying it too, so this is for her, as a thanks for reading it over :)  
**

**I'm going to make this into a full story eventually, but I'm just posting a few one shots that will end up longer  
**

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"Boss, it's time to g- oh sorry. I'll wait outside." One of his stupid thugs wandered in without looking to see if anyone else was with him before announcing business matters.

"What does he mean by that? You aren't leaving again, are you?" His sweet, innocent angel raised her head and asked him, outraged.

"I have to, my dearest. Business calls, keep the bed warm, love." He said with a smile, though he was always smiling.

She shook her head and fumed, knowing there was nothing she could to stop him from messing with the city.

"If you go, we won't be sleeping in the same bed." She hissed at him. He recoiled in shock, and stared at her, first in surprise, then in anger.

It was never good to get him angry.

"You know what I do! What I must do to show this city a little fun! They need me, my dear, and I'm very sorry if that isn't... good enough for you!" He growled at her, because he was passed angry, and into his scary side.

His eyes, usually warm brown, had darkened as his dark side came out to play, making them seem almost black.

"I just...miss you. It's not fair. You spend so much time out there with your thugs and henchmen and barely any with me, when I'm awake at least. I miss you!" She started talking in an even voice, trying not to anger him more or to show him how badly this hurt her, but it slipped into a plead, a whine at the end as he turned from her and stormed off.

She stared until he had left the room, and then collapsed on the floor crying.

"You!" He growled as he sped out of the room where he left Andrea, heading towards the man that had interrupted them.

The man was obviously scared and shocked, because the only movement he made was flinching as Joker stopped in front of him, right in his face, almost nose to nose.

"What is so important that you interrupted me?!" He whispered, but to the scared man, he could've screamed or growled again, it still would have scared him.

"The-the...m-mob-bs w-want t-to ne-negotiate... I just t-thought... you s-should k-know..." the man stuttered, eventually getting the information out.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" The Joker asked rhetorically, and turned away from him, not seeing the frantic head bobbing the man did to say yes.

"Well? Go! We don't have all day!" he barked at the men standing in the room. They scurried out to do whatever henchmen did, as Joker ran to apply his makeup.

When he entered the room, that could be considered a living room, since it had a few chairs and a cheap table, he was surprised to see Andrea in a heap on the floor, crying her eyes out.

"What...what's wrong?" he whispered just loud enough for her to hear. She whipped her head up and then looked away from him straight after, taking deep breaths.

"What is it, my love?" He rushed over to her, still whispering, and helped her to her feet gently. He was too worried about her to see she flinched back from his touch helping her up.

"Nothing, I'm fine." She held her head high and looked anywhere and at anything other than him.

He sighed and ran a hand through his green hair, "Did I do something wrong?" he asked softly, trying to figure out what made her cry.

"No, I'm fine; don't you have somewhere to be?" Now she looked at him and glared with all she had. The effect was a little less than intended because of puffy bloodshot eyes and slightly swollen lips, but he understood well enough.

"So I did do something, I'm sorry, love, but I really have to go..." He said pleadingly, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"Then you should go. I'll see you later." She said finally, and he sighed again.

"I love you, I'm sorry; I'll make it up to you, if you'll let me."He said gently, as he tugged her reluctant body into a hug and kissed the top of her ginger hair.

"Fine, but it better be good." She said into his chest, not daring to relax into his arms.

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**Hope you liked it, please if you would review, it would make me really happy! :D**

**I'll upload another chapter in a few days!  
**


	3. Messy Makeup and Cups of Tea

**Here's the next chapter, this is for 2LeapsForward, thanks for the review!**

**I plan on adding more context as it goes on, but for now, you're only going to find out little parts of their history.**

**Well enjoy and please review, it really does help me and make me happy! **

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When he had skipped into the adjoining bathroom, she muttered, "I'm not going to see him again tonight, am I?" and she rolled her eyes.

She then rushed after him to help, because he wasn't that good at putting on makeup; she had told him repeatedly not to use her painting brushes, and that he could use her actual makeup brushes, but that went in one ear, took a trip round his head, and out the other within a second.

As she suspected, he was leaning towards the mirror with a two inch paint brush trying to apply his white makeup. She wondered how she could find _that_ attractive but strangely, she found it endearing.

She snorted at him and he turned round, paint brush in hand with a large dollop of white makeup that was dangerously close to dropping onto his green shoes.

"Come here you." She murmured and he came scurrying towards her, nearly poking her eye out giving her the paint brush so she would help him.

"You know you're hopeless at this, sweetie, why didn't you wait for me to help you? She asked him as she removed the large mess of white he had put onto his face and carefully applied a reasonable amount.

"I have to go; I can't wait for my little angel to help me." He said as she moved onto his eye make with the black.

"Ah, but you know, I make you look much more handsome than when you do it, and mess it up!" She laughed as he tried to shake his head in denial.

"Don't deny it, love. Where's the red?" she asked looking at the counter that had all the makeup laid out, both his and hers. She couldn't see the red in either pile; no doubt he had lost it.

"Oh, err, about...that... I would like to...err...try purple... I think it has... a different... effect to the red..."He lowered his head, looking at his feet as he mumbled, trying to keep some of his manliness when discussing beauty issues.

She laughed again, "Fine, this one time you can use my purple, see how it works." He raised his head and smiled happily at her.

"Thanks, dear." He chirped before leaning in to kiss her, and she took the chance to put on the dark purple lipstick.

"Wha-hey." He pouted his purple lips at her.

"Nope, time to go. I'll see you later," She said pushing him lightly from the bathroom, into the living room, and out into the big warehouse joining onto it.

"I don't wanna go now!" He winded, pouting at her. She laughed and kissed him lightly on the lips before shoving him out and closing the door, laughing to herself.

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"Let's go!" He shouted jovially, eager to get this over with, because the sooner it was done, the sooner he'd be back to his love.

His henchmen stared at him before snapping into action and getting into different grimy old cards and the Joker himself getting into a rusty Ford.

They backed out and drove away separately, one car taking off every few minutes, until 10 cars had left the warehouse.

"Let's get to the entertainment Hench!" Joker cheered and slapped the driver about the head in his excitement.

They were off to mess with the mob, and announce that they would have to kill the Batman. It's a good thing no one told Andrea what the meeting was about.

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"Why does he always leave a mess? Worse than a child! He's a grown man, an immature, messy Joker." She muttered pointlessly to herself as she tidied up for her boyfriend.

"Why do crooks meet at late hours of the night? We could be having a nice cp of cinnamon tea by now! Then he wouldn't need any henchmen to go with him, I'd tear them apart, the filthy no good scum." She continued to mutter to herself as she straightened the makeup out, then herself and walked out into the living room to grab her bag.

"I'll be home before they are." She said sadly. She locked every door, window and vent, and checked them twice, then left to head to the nearest coffee shop.

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Some of the goons thought that Joker was able to come up with his suit idea on his own, pulling it from his messed up, muddled mind, but it was actually Andrea who thought of it, because she dressed similarly-well some said strangely-.

As she walked from the docks, where the warehouse was situated, she reflected on her outfit and makeup.

She was wearing her favourite colours, purple and green, and her favourite makeup, as her boyfriend called, Joker style. She wore frayed and ripped purple jeans; a soft baggy green t-shirt that hung off her shoulders and exposed her collarbone with black and white polka dot high tops, perfect for running in a town like this.

Her bag was black with green and purple stripes with silver lace sown over the rips and worn parts; another one of her favourites.

After assessing that she looked like – well, weird; she didn't care. She moved onto her OTT makeup. Since she had ginger hair, she was naturally pale and didn't need to wear white makeup like her boyfriend, though she kept the black eye shadow, but added mascara and eyeliner and a pinky red lipgloss. She chuckled lightly at how similar Joker and she were, after years of influencing each other.

She was walking across one of Gotham's many bridges when she saw a body lying on the ground. She thought it could be a hobo or a criminal, so she crossed to the other side of the bridge and walked faster. She repressed the worried, caring side for her own safety and was glad when she saw a lit cafe, on the corner of the street at the end of the bridge.

Again, she quickened her pace, excited to get a warm cup of tea and a chocolaty cupcake. Hey, she was a girl after all, girlfriend of the crazy Joker or not.

She finally reached the door and smiled at cashier who looked at her warily, probably thinking she was crazy because of her makeup and clothes. He wasn't far wrong, but not for her appearance.

She walked up to the counter, which had a fridge with bottled drinks, sandwiches and cupcakes at the side.

"A cup of tea, milk, no sugar and a coconut raspberry chocolate cupcake, please." She said happily as she watched him pull out a tray, plate her cupcake and press a button on a fancy machine to make her tea.

She paid him the exact amount in cash and sat down in a nearby chair, which had a small table, nailed to the floor. She stared at it quizzically until the young guy walked round the counter to set the tray in front of her and trudged back behind the counter.

"Thank you!" She chirped to his retreating back, and started dipping her finger into the icing on the top of her bun, while lifting her tea to her lips with her other hand.

Just after she took a sip and sucked her sugary finger clean, the windows were shot in, spraying glass everywhere and Andrea ducked and covered her face with her arms. She sprang from her seat and yelled, "Do you mind?! I can't eat my cupcake now you bastard!" at the figure standing just out of reach of the streetlights, that had shot the gun.

"Miss, don't. He could be dangerous!" the cashier pleaded as he ducked behind his counter for safety.

"Well, are you going to say sorry and buy me a new one?" She yelled to the shape, the figure stood still and made no move to apologise or buy her a new tea or cupcake. Until it started moving towards the window, and the light; it was a man, late 40's with a scraggly beard and dirty grey eyes. He made her feel sick just looking at him.

"No, I'm not going to buy you anything, bitch. You can get out or you can get shot, same goes for you, coward! I want the money, now!" He demanded harshly. Andrea just raised a perfectly plucked red eyebrow at him and laughed like her boyfriend often laughed. The man visibly faltered, unsure what was going on, and afraid of her manic laughter.

"I'm serious lady! Get out!" He yelled with a little less confidence and shakily raising his small hand gun to point at her.

"Aw... why so serious? You should smile more." She said observantly, as she raised her leg, spun on the spot, kicked the gun clean out of his hand and sent it skittering across the cafe, out of his reach. The man didn't even blink.

"What the hell?" He said, and then she rushed forward, faked going to punch him with her left hand and punched him hard with her right, hearing a successful crack.

"You bitch!" he screamed in pain. She laughed again and raised her foot to kick him in the face.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You should be nicer to women." She reprimanded as she kicked him in his privates and he dropped to his knees, where she spun again and kicked him round the head before driving her knee into his nose. He slumped.

"What... the..." came the shocked blabber from the young cashier, and she smiled at him.

"Don't worry, I'll drag him outside, toss his gun and help you lock up. It would be best if you forget what happened tonight." She spoke gently so she didn't spook him. He just nodded dumbly in response and she hooked her finger on the collar of the man's jacket, trailing him out the door over smashed glass. She trailed him to the end of the bridge and threw the gun into the river that ran under the bridge. She jogged lightly back to the shop where the young man had brushed up the glass, set a new cupcake out and tea in a to-go cup.

He was leaning on the counter with a set of keys in his hand, and then showed her how to pull the shutters down at the front of the store. When everything was locked up and she was ready to go back to the warehouse, with her cupcake and tea in hand, she thanked him for replacing them.

"It was the least I could do; after all you saved the night!" He laughed and waved to her as she walked back across the bridge to go back to the warehouse, finishing her cupcake and drinking her tea happily.

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**Sorry if the small fight scene doesn't actually work in real life, but that's how I pictured it, and I don't actually do any fighting and such.**

**I wanted her to be a badass but still quite loopy.  
**

**As for the strange cupcake, I don't know if there is such a cupcake, but it sounded pretty good at 4am, while I was writing this!  
**

**Well, you know the score, review blah blah :D  
**

**I'll update again in a few days!  
**


	4. Racing Scars

**Sorry for the wait, but here it is! **

**The next chapter :)**

**I wanted more scary/evil/unpredictable Joker in it, and I think I managed that!  
**

**Leave me a review please and enjoy!  
**

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"Home... home... home...home!" He chanted as he sprang from the car, raced through the living area, up a flight of stairs and into a bedroom. "Honey, I'm home!" He sang happily as he reached the bed and started discarding his clothes and some items he had brought home for his angel.

"Good, I missed you sweetie. Come here, I'll warm you up." Came his love's voice from under the covers and happily dove under and snuggled beside her.

"How was your night, dear?" he asked her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she laid her head on his bare chest, breathing in time with him.

"Oh, I went and got tea and a cupcake from the little cafe across the bridge, and I might have killed the guy that tried to attack the cafe and kill me and the kid on register, just usual Gotham stuff." She said sleepily and the Joker gasped.

"You did what, my lovely?"He asked, astounded. His girl, protecting someone and killing a bad guy; she was too good.

"Yeah, he wasn't too nice of a guy anyway." She admitted to him, again the Joker gaped and stared down at the top of her head.

"I'm so proud of you, sweetie!" he kissed the top of her curly hair and hugged her closer to him.

"Now, are you going to make it up to me, or what?" she whispered in his ear and he gave a delighted squeak, knowing exactly how to.

He started by kissing her, winding his fingers in her soft hair, then running his hands over her shoulders, down her arms, onto her legs and eventually stilled on her lower back, unsure if he should push his luck and go lower. She made no move to stop him as he continued down; thoroughly enjoying himself until he remembered what he really had to make it up to her.

He stopped kissing; trying not to look at her disappointed face as he sprang from the warm bed, for a moment missing the warm bed and body pressed against him. He quickly fumbled in his purple coat pockets, pulling out knives, grenades, bomb triggers and finally a long black box. He picked up the brown paper bag from beside his coat and flicked the light on, blinding them both for a few seconds. He skittered to where Andrea sat up in bed, looking confused and waiting to see what he was playing at.

He reached into the bag and pulled out a large bunch of red tulips and handed her them carefully watching her face to see if she liked them. She smiled and held them to her nose to smell, until one large tulip squirted her in the face with water and she laughed, shaking her head at him and wiping her face dry. He laughed at her un-amused face and handed her the next gift he had for her, a Batman plush toy, with a little extra design. He watched her stare in shock at the toy, and he smiled at his handy work. He had gotten some thread and sown black over the eyes and red over the mouth, making the toy look like himself. She shook her head again and he was sure they would be thinking the same thing. It would be their bed decoration. Others had too many pillows, fluffy blankets, teddy bears, or even sweets on the pillows. They would have a hero plushie defaced, showing just how bonkers they were.

He handed her the black box last, and she raised an eyebrow at him. He nodded like a bobble head figurine and she accepted the box and slowly prised it open.

This, she was not expecting.

A delicate silver bracelet lay on the black fabric that was soft under her fingers. She couldn't dare touch it; she would surely damage such a beautiful gift. Her eyes then noticed the silver charms that were linked to the chain. She took in each detail carefully, on one side a tiny knife, with a brown handle, a small green grenade and a miniature playing card, with a joker engraved onto it and she looked at him, smirking now. He had put his favourite things on there. She looked back at the shiny trinket and on the other side she saw a cupcake with pink icing and sprinkles, a purple tear drop jewel and a tea mug. He had also put hers there. On her side, a silver letter 'A' charm was placed, and on the side with the playing card and weapons, a silver 'J' resided. In between the letters, a diamond heart was linked, and her heart stopped. She nearly cried at how much thought he put into the gift, his favourite things and hers, as well as diamonds. Tears clouded her eyes and she threw her shaking arms around his neck, clutching the beautiful bracelet in her hand.

"It's beautiful, Joe. I love it... I love you, thank you so much!"She whispered in his ear and she let the tears loose as he wrapped his bare arms around his girl.

"Want me to help you put it on?" he asked softly and she nodded into his chest. She released her death grip and carefully handed him the bracelet and held her wrist out for him. With ease, he clasped the bracelet but something caught his eyes. Instead of bring up what he saw, he leant and kissed her wrist at her pulse point, also were a long pale scar could be seen. His eyes trailed up her arm, where he saw more scars, and then up to her eyes. He shook his head sadly and she just shrugged, saying "I'm fine, you know I am."

It was as if she could read his thoughts.

"You promise?" he whispered sounding broken.

"Promise." She said with conviction and made a pinky promise with him. After they unlinked fingers, he pounced, leaning over her.

"Now, back to where we were, yes?" he asked in a purr and she could only mumble incoherently as he kissed her passionately, making her stomach flutter and her legs turn to jelly. With the little strength she had, she hooked a leg around one of his and used her other to flip them over, so she was above him, her hair falling around her face as she smiled confidently.

He laughed lightly before they resumed their make out session.

* * *

"You're staring," He whispered and she laughed.

"It's romantic," She disagreed as she tried to remember every little detail of his face, loving each part she found.

"You're staring and it's creepy." He corrected and laughed. "What are you thinking about?" he asked her and she blushed. No point hiding the truth.

"You, how simple you make everything look; how you make me feel beautiful; how you make my tummy tickle; how you make my heart flutter; how you make my mind spin; how even though I try and picture you when you're gone, it's nothing compared to when I see you again. Also, how damn hot you look right now." She explained simply and he turned to face her, leaning on his hands and smiling.

"Oh, really?" He asked, smirking now. She grabbed a pillow and whacked him round the head with it and he grabbed her around the waist and slung her over her shoulder.

"Hey! Put me down!" she demanded as she wriggled and squirmed.

"Nope, 'fraid I can't do that, my dear. We need a cup of tea and then some fun!" he said happily and she stopped squirming, she loved his tea; how could she refuse?

"Good, now, I'm thinking cookies, what do you think?" he asked as they went down the stairs.

"Oh, cookies would be nice!" She agreed and she crossed her arms on his shoulder and rested her head upon them. Unfortunately, kitchen was at the other side of the warehouse and it would take them a few minutes to get there, never mind the goons they could run into on the way. She paled and blushed at the thought. She was wearing a short silk slip and with her hefted on Joker's shoulder, she was sure anyone could see her rather skimpy underwear. That would not be good.

"Joe, put me down, please. My bum is sure to be flashing." She squeaked, and he stopped walking.

"It is and it's lovely, now shush." He said lightly before walking on. Oh that bastard.

"No! Put me down! I am not going to have any of your bloody clowns seeing my ass!" she yelled and smacked his back.

"Fine, but you walk too slowly. Let's race." He said suddenly and set her down as they neared the garage door. She was surprised at his change in opinion and tone, but she was not going to refuse the chance to cover her arse.

"Wonderful dear, winner gets to be served tea." She bet, knowing she would win, because even though he was stronger, she was faster. Behind a door in the garage, was the weapon hall, and through a door in there, was the kitchen.

"Ready? One, two, three." They whispered together and they shot off, Andrea hanging behind Joker so he would have to open the door, giving her a chance to shoot through and get a good lead.

"No fair!" He yelled as she zoomed ahead, laughing and speeding on until she had the door to the weapons hall in sight. Their bare foot steps were barely registered compared to the echoed laughter from Andrea and their panted breaths.

Andrea was just about to open the door when a man, one of Joker's followers, came through and had to jump out of the way; Andrea knew she had won, but she raced on, until she could see each detail on the kitchen door.

"I'm going to win!" she yelled as she reached the door and burst inside the lit room, turning to look at the empty weapon hall.

Joker wasn't behind her. She couldn't see him at all. She became afraid. He never gave up a race, even if he knew he would lose, never. She scrambled to the cutlery drawer and pulled out a large knife, carefully leaning out the door of the kitchen to have a better look around.

"Honey?" She called and walked out, thinking it was safe to look around further. A hand grasped onto her shoulder and another onto her hip, holding painfully tight. As an instinct she threw her elbow back, kicked behind her and threw her head back, hoping to hit whatever had grabbed her.

She must have hit something because the hands faltered and she ran back into the kitchen, forgetting she had a large pointy knife in her hand.

"Joe?!" She screamed; past scared now and into a small panic attack. She was shaking in the corner of the room, trying to hold the knife steadily in front of her, ready for attackers or whoever the hell grabbed her.

"Joe!" she screamed again and she felt like crying, her heart was hammering in her chest and the blood was pumping in her head, adrenaline flowing fast. Something happened. Someone found them. Someone had gotten to Joker and she felt like giving up, if he was gone, she wanted to go to. She didn't know if anything had happened, but her mind helpfully supplied evidence of their possibility; as it does in scary situations, in a dark warehouse, filled with crazy killers and rapists.

"JOE!" she screamed again, letting a few tears loose. If her boyfriend didn't come, hopefully one of his men would, and they'd help her, because she was the Joker's girl.

Then her mind reminded her that someone grabbed her, in the weapons hall. She didn't know if they were Jokers men, or otherwise, and all she had was a knife.

"Well, shit." She stated dumbly, and tucked herself into the corner deeper.

"Joe, where are you?" she whispered and tried to gather what little courage she had when the lights went out and the hopes of getting some balls went with it. In the darkness she was screwed; her eyes hadn't adjusted and she could only hear her strained breathing and shuffling. She thought she had a secure grip on the knife, but when a hand latched onto her wrist- thankfully not the one with the bracelet- and she dropped the knife. She was shoved back into the wall and hit her head, making stars dance behind her closed eyes.

She wasn't scared, but repulsed when she felt a body press against her and a finger trail down her side, gliding in tandem with her curves. She shivered and felt like gagging, she could tell this wasn't her boyfriend. With shaky hands she pushed the body as far away as possible.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" she yelled, but wasn't gratified with an answer. By now, her eyes had adjusted and she could make out a man's head and she swung a fist at it best she could; she was rewarded with a groan.

"Whoever you are, you are so screwed." She growled, before her fighting side came out, as it had the night before in the cafe. She twirled and kicked her leg out tripping the body and she reached for the man's hand, she supposed, and twisted their wrist in on them, making them scream in pain.

She heard footsteps running up the hall and she stood on the feet of the guy, pressing hard enough to keep him put, but not enough to do any permanent damage. The steps sounded closer and then the lights flicked back on, to show her boyfriend, finally, in the door way. He had in one hand, a bloody blade and the other on the light switch. His eyes had darkened to that deep brown, showing he had let out his dark side. She looked to the person she was restraining, she didn't know him but he looked rich, she could tell from how he was dressed.

The man looked to the doorway, seeing the bloody Joker and sneered, "Joker, get your bitch off," in a thick accent. She growled and twisted his wrist further, hurting him more.

"I am _not _his bitch, you piece of shit." She stood off one of his feet and kicked him in the side, then in the balls.

"Joe, you can deal with him. I'm going out." She said with venom, and she watched her boyfriend stand there for a moment then move to take her place, glaring daggers at the man on the floor. She touched his arm lightly and stormed out of the room and into the hall.

She stopped short when she saw the bodies on the ground, with their throat slit. She felt like being sick, but she ran past them and headed to their room to get clothes to get out quickly. There was no stopping her boyfriend tonight, the Joker was out to play.

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**I'm curious, would you like more from the Joker's view? **

**I don't mind writing from his view :)  
**

**ALSO! What should happen to the guy? Do you know who he is? If not, I'll fix that.  
**

**review review review please!  
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	5. Time for Normality

**A/N**

**Well, I didn't get any reviews for the last chapter, but I couldn't NOT update.  
**

**It just made me feel like no one liked it D:  
**

**Please, review after you read! It means a lot and I don't mind if you're a guest, it helps me write, honest.  
**

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When she reached the bedroom she looked at Joker's abandoned clothes and sighed. Even if he wasn't off on one, there was no chance of him picking up after himself, so she bundled them in her arms and dropped them on his side of the bed. She moved quickly to the wardrobe beside where she slept and pulled out some normal inconspicuous clothes, dark blue denim jeans- that made her ass look great, according to Joker, she agreed- and a purple blouse, with silver buttons and long sleeves. She pulled out her plain black converse and smiled. She would look like a normal 20 year old- especially without her makeup-, she snorted at that and toed her shoes on, before shucking the rest on quickly. Leaving the room she snatched a black band hoodie from the end of the bed and slipped it on too.

It was time for some normality, like shoe shopping or going to see a movie; no hanging around rapists, killers and thieves, today at least. Anyway, she had time to kill while the clown was out of the box.

She jogged down the stairs, across the living room, grabbing her favourite bag from the table when passing and leaving through the garage doors, trying to block out the manic laughter and screams she could hear from the weapons hall direction. Her hearing was good but her selective hearing wasn't.

She tried remaining calm, because she was in no danger, but her body reacted and gave in to an all out run and wouldn't allow her to slow down until she had put a reasonable amount of distance between her and the screaming. She realised she was clutching onto her bag strap with white knuckles as she crossed the bridge, spotting the small cafe she had gone into the night previously.

Have to start being normal somewhere, he probably wouldn't remember me anyway. She thought with a smile, he barely looked at her when dressed crazy, so there was no way he'd recognise her dressed normally. She nodded and walking confidently through the door and heading to the counter, where a few people already waited.

The man from the night before walked through a back door, carrying a large cardboard box and giving her a look before shaking his head and setting the box down behind the counter. He took the orders of the 2 people in front of her and soon enough he was taking hers.

"You're back," He said as he pushed a button on the fancy machine from the night before. He sounded surprised, she didn't know why. The cafe was handy and she liked tea.

"I liked your tea, and your cupcake, so I'll have same as before." She said simply and sat down on a nearby chair, crossing her legs. He gave her a thoughtful look, and then gathered together her order, in a to-go cup and her cupcake in a small brown paper bag. She paid him and left with a small smile, walking quickly towards the good shoe store's she knew in the town.

Walking through the crowded streets, veering from the inner pavement, where hands would sneak out from alleyway shadows and snatch your purse, or your whole person, she soon arrived at a punk gothic boutique.

Joker be damned, she was going to come home with 20 pairs of shoes, and if he annoyed her in anyway, he was going to get kicked something shocking with her new kick ass heels.

* * *

**Yes, it was much shorter.**

**Because I didn't get any reviews.  
**

**At all :(  
**

**If you didn't like it because there was a lack of fluffy cuteness, remember:**

**I'm single, loveydovey stuff depresses me.  
**

**It gets boring and repetitive.  
**

**I wanted ACTION!  
**

**Well please review!  
**

**Hope it was okay :)  
**


	6. Mischief in the Making

**A/N**

**Thank you so much to Demiqueen!  
**

**You really helped me continue this and thanks for the absolutely amazing review!  
**

**This chapters for you! :)  
**

**ENJOY!  
**

* * *

"What are you doing here?" He whispered, velvety smooth and sharp as a knife. The Chechen visibly shuddered, and spent a few moments thinking before answering very carefully.

"I wanted to discuss matters..." He stated in a thick accent, and the Joker had to replay what he said quickly in his head before actually knowing what he said.

"So you come to my warehouse, attack someone dear to me, and put her safety in jeopardy?" the Joker took a step closer to the finely dressed man, cocking his head and sneering at him. He didn't expect an answer. "Oh, you didn't know I heard you? You and your, uh, men aren't very... _quiet_... neither are the pooches outside. We will discuss matters, but not just... _yet_... I can't have you uh remembering _where_ we are, a business man of your stature would, heh, _understand_, yes?" The clown acted before the mob man had a second to think, round house kicking him in the head and knocking him out.

The clown prince skipped round the bearded man and then hooked a finger on his collar, dragging him out of the kitchen, into the darkness, humming a merry tune to himself.

* * *

Smiling as she left the third shoe shop, laden with bags, Andrea had a spring in her step heading to her next destination; her new apartment in the Narrows.

She had always wanted her own space, to make whatever she wanted with what she was given. Now she could do that, and hopefully have a safe haven or getaway when she needed alone time on her own or with Joker.

It was different from the other apartments in the area, it wasn't run down and it wasn't surrounded by drug dealers. It was in a gated community, for the richer population of the Narrows, and it was a newly built building. Luckily, she had snapped up the penthouse, with 2 guest rooms, a master bedroom with an en suite, fully furnished kitchen, reception area, living room and dining room. It was perfect. Now she just had to tell Joker about it; or not.

* * *

"Wake_-y_, wake_-y_!" Joker sang happily, having finally moved the heavy mob man to a new location, another one of his warehouses, and sat him down in a bare square room on the floor.

The Chechen shook his head and regretted it the second after, blazing pain blinding him. He didn't know where he was; he didn't like not knowing. The last thing he remembered was touching some young piece of meat and getting beat on his ass. He didn't like that either.

"Good evening, Richie; it is Richard right? I hope you don't, uh, _mind _me calling you that. See I like nicknames, they're _fun!_" The Joker babbled in his high gruff voice, completely confusing the bearded mobster. How did he know his name was Richard? Just as long as he didn't know anything else.

"Oh don't look so bored! I have a lot more in store for _you_, just you wait!" He continued on, getting more and more worked up. Richard Chechen didn't like where this was going. Not one bit. "Now, about the Batman, uh, _situation_... I believe we should talk money first, yes?" Joker cocked his head and gave him a twisted smile. Chechen could see the crazy seep out of Joker like a fire spreading, it wasn't going to be long until he snapped, truthfully, he didn't want to be here or alive when that happened.

"As I, _uh_, told you and your mob mates, I want, heh, _half_. Also, I want to know where your friend, eh, Gam_bol_, currently resides; it's that _sim_ple." Joker drawled, exciting himself at the opportunity to cause chaos and make money. He was right. Richie only had to give him an address and ensure he got money. The hard part of the deal was actually getting near enough to kill the Batman.

He'd have to make a big scene. He smiled dangerously at the thought. He had plans to make.

* * *

**A/N**

**I know this chapter was kind of short, but I didn't know if you lot liked the last two chapters.  
**

**Nonetheless, it was important to the story.  
**

**Now see that lovely blue box right below this?  
**

**That kiddies is the amazing REVIEW button.  
**

**And this is your REVIEW reminder.  
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******So REVIEW.**  


******Make a little fangirl happy :3  
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	7. Murphy and Moran

**A/N **

**Well, this is the part you have been waiting for!  
**

**We get to see some background on Andrea now, but not a lot, because there is A LOT.  
**

**Hope you like it!**

* * *

A balding middle aged man, soon to be landlord, tilted his head, widened his eyes slightly and spoke in a gruff voice, "So, Miss...I'm sorry, I actually didn't catch your last name..." He nodded slightly to show he meant it as a question and not just a pointless statement. She smiled reassuringly at him, and nodded lightly.

"Miss Andrea Moran," She said simply, knowing he would ask questions soon. As she had guessed, his already comical eyes bulged. She raised a delicate eyebrow at him and assessed each aspect of him.

He wore an ugly grey dress shirt, faded denim jeans that looked as old as he himself did, and clown like black shoes. His hazel grey eyes were much like the rest of him, old and worn out, dim and lifeless. His mousey brown hair had streaks of silver, and a large balding patch on the crown of his head. He could use a toupee, Andrea thought snidely.

He seemed like a nice guy; he just didn't look truly trustworthy. To her, he looked like the rest of the people in Gotham, scared, worried, tired and just trying to make a living any way they could.

"Moran, you say?" He asked quickly, and she nodded politely. So he'd heard of her family. Oh joy.

"And you would be originally from Ireland, am I right?" he inquired, and again, she nodded. He blanched.

"Before you ask, Mr Murphy, I am not like the majority of my family. I do not play around with the paramilitary, nor do I dabble in drugs. I am here to live with my boyfriend. That is all. I moved away from all that, you understand, yes?" She narrowed her eyes dangerously as she spoke slowly and calmly, knowing very well why he was worried at the moment. He nodded like a bobble head doll.

"I'm sorry for whatever my family may have done, but I assure you, I will not do the same. M'kay?" She ended brightly, eyes twinkling, smile blinding. He smiled shakily back and harshly jabbed the elevator button for the penthouse.

After a rather uncomfortably silent journey to the penthouse, Andrea was thankful to see the large wooden double doors of her new apartment.

"This is your new residence; I am on the ground floor if you need me. Also, here is my office number if you have a problem. There is a full water tank in the fridge and emergency numbers on the wall by the phone. Have a good day Miss Moran." Murphy wrapped up quickly and handed her a card with his office number and backed off with haste. She didn't know what her family did exactly to get that reaction, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Happily, she shifted the bags in her hands, slotted one of the new keys into the lock and turned, unlocking and opening the dark varnished doors. She softly closed the door after slipping through, trying her best not to mark or damage anything.

She knew this place was nice, but damn. This was everything and more than she expected. The bags she had carried all day fell from her shocked hands, and crashed on the floor. Thank god nothing was fragile.

From the entrance hall, she could see the reception area, straight in front of her. A fancy table with a bunch of white lilies in a vase lay in the middle of the strangely circular room. The walls, done simply with cream and tan brown trimmings, had been gifted with gorgeous paintings of mountains, trees, flowers and other abstract things that made Andrea feel things she couldn't fully explain; that was art, she guessed. The far wall, the one just past the table wasn't actually a wall. It was a window, an immaculate clean window, and sweeping round in an arc with the room. She could see out onto Gotham River, see the boats speed along and some stutter by, and see the bridge and all the cars whirring back and forth.

On the right hand side of the circle room, was a large hall, with doors on either side, most likely the bedrooms both guest and master and hopefully the bathroom was down there with the guest rooms. It would just be embarrassing to walk from one side of the flat to the other after a shower, past a window wall. At least the river couldn't tell anyone about it.

On the left hand side of the room, was a door shaped gap in the wall, from floor to ceiling, clearly showing a living room, with a black leather corner sofa, a square glass table a foot in front of it.

Her view was cut off by the wall there, and she rushed round to the doorway and saw the kitchen and dining room were in the same large room, breakfast bar with high seats beside her left and kitchen appliances behind the surface. The dining table was very modern, with steel legs swooping up to meet the rounded glass. Five black and white chairs were plotted around the table, and place settings perfectly lying out. She smiled. Maybe she didn't have to make this place her own; it already seemed too good to be true.

* * *

**A/N**

**By the way, Moran is an Irish surname, meaning shine in darkness.  
**

**Murphy is also an Irish surname. HINT HINT.  
**

**Now, you wanna know something?  
**

**I love getting reviews, really, I nearly cried when Demiqueen reviewed me again-thanks for that!-  
**

**As a writer, I love hearing what you lot think!  
**

**So, go be wee angels and review this, as well as the 5th chapter, PLEASE?!  
**

**It doesn't have any reviews and it feels left out!  
**

**If you review you'll get the next chapter soon :)  
**


	8. Darling Dearest and Derry Green Grass

**A/N**

**Well, thanks to the great response of the last chapter, I had to upload this quickly!  
**

**(Thanks Demiqueen, for the constant support and my friend Carmolala, who hasn't yet reviewed ;D)  
**

**Lots of Irish slang in this, I'll put what the words mean at the end, but hopefully you'll understand.  
**

**I do love the slang, it's funny, some of it I do actually use or have heard said.  
**

**So enjoy!  
**

* * *

"Right you muppets! Time to plant bombs! You, you and _you_," The Joker pointed to three clown-masked men, "I want you to rig the police de_part_ment. Take as much time as you need, but get it done, or you'll be,_ eh_, done. Under_stand_?" He looked straight into each of their eyes, sneering and leaning forward as they all nodded erratically. They figured out what was meant by 'done'.

They knew he loved this part. They would call it bossing around and giving orders, he called it pyrotechnics and chemical messing. He believed this was one of his many talents; for causing trouble mostly, but his bombs were good too.

This Joker was scary. His sane side was gone; he wasn't in control. He went with the violence and fear he inspired, never planning what he where he would go or what he would do, but expecting every possibility.

No one really understood that; he never had a _solid_ plan, but he had a way to get in and out of any situation.

"The rest of you, pair up and plant bombs, here, here _and_ here." He pointed out three places out on a map on the wall. He gave them a smaller copy so they remembered, the gammy idiots.

"This will be deadly-"the clown prince murmured happily to himself, smiling at his double meaning, "oh look at the time. Well off you go!" He spun from his followers, walked to the warehouse door and kicked it open. It slammed on the outside wall and the Joker strode purposefully out into the night.

He had a darling dearest to track down.

* * *

"Oh! Oh...my... You gotta be taking the piss. Stall the freaking ball. This... is my scratcher?!" Andrea mumbled in awe, not even noticing she had fallen into slang, using terms she hadn't in years. She was looking on her new bed, a double queen sized, with puffed up pillows, large quilt and very fluffy looking blankets. Now was the moment for something she had always wanted to do, and she would do it.

She ran from the doorway and pounced, flopping on the soft bed without hurting herself, but wrecking the pillows and quilt. She lay there, face smooshed into the sweet-smelling fabric of the fur blankets and smiled. This was better than home. Better than a ramshackle, rundown cottage in the country. This was where she belonged, not in stupid rainy Ireland, with her paranoid parents.

Soon enough, with her face still buried in the blankets, she fell asleep.

* * *

Rain. Always raining. It soaked her skin and dripped from her hair, droplets hitting her eyes and blurring her vision. She slipped and landed on the saturated Derry green grass, getting mud on her hands and clothes. She struggled to pull herself up, slipping and sliding in the mud and began to growl in anger.

This should be easy work, but she was failing, flailing and flapping about like a headless chicken. Her voice wouldn't work right, she couldn't call out for help; people passed her by, like ghosts, not even sparing her a glance.

She tried calling again; she tried screaming for help in whatever language she knew, but none of it worked. It never worked. She was alone, always alone. No one would help her, no one could save her.

"I'm here love, I've got you." A manic voice called to her, hands grabbed her and hauled her from the sopping wet mud and into a van. She didn't know where she was now, or who had helped her, but she thanked them anyway.

"Who are ye?" She croaked, thanking the heavens and any god she knew for letting her voice work once more. It may have been a miracle it worked again, but what she had said would be a tragedy.

She had a knife pressed to her neck at once; the cold metal almost matching her skin temperature. It pressed on her pulse point, showing her this person was serious.

"D'ye mind? I'm tryn'e strike up a conversation." She snapped in her barely understandable accent.

She couldn't see in front of her, but she could feel around. She felt the floor of the van she knew she had been hauled into, she felt her sodden clothes and the still runny mud on her hands. She could tell water was dripping from her hair, running down her face. She could tell there were a few people in the van with her and whoever had the knife on her neck, but it was almost completely silent, even as the rain hit the windows with a fury and the wind howled and roared.

Her angry statement had made the blade falter and move, but it wasn't an accident. It moved to her lips, pressed tightly together in frustration.

"You might want to be quiet now, doll." The stupid voice whispered in her ear and she shivered. She tried to convince herself it was from the cold, not from fear or anything else. She was sopping wet after all.

"Aye, like tha'll happen ye spanner. Are ye plastered mate?"She retorted and almost laughed.

"No, but you will want to hush up, or else your daddy will only receive pieces of you, doll." The gravelly voice murmured in her ear, their breath tickling her cold skin and the threat raising goose bumps on her arms.

So they didn't help her out of kindness. They did it to get to her family. Not a smart move.

* * *

**Well?**

**If you liked it review please :)  
**

**To those who read and don't review, or favourite or follow and don't review, I SEE YOU!  
**

**REVIEW PLEASE!  
**

**Slang-  
**

**muppet- idiot/fool  
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**deadly- fantastic to irish people, but actually deadly to other people, that's what meant by double meaning! :)  
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**taking the piss- joking  
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**stall the ball- hold on a minute  
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**scratcher- bed  
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**spanner- idiot  
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**plastered- drunk  
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**mate- friend or a general term for someone, like a pronoun!  
**

**If you like the slang, please review and tell me, I might just include more! ;D  
**

**Also, the last part was obviously a dream, if you didn't catch that.  
**

**Okay, bye now!  
**


	9. Mocking Crack

**A/N**

**Well, after much ado, I give you the next chapter!**

**A big thank you to Demiqueen and MrTac0 for reviewing the last chapter! :D**

**MrTac0, your review made me giggle, thanks for that!**

**Now, enjoy :)  
**

* * *

He hadn't heard from his Andrea all day, since he snapped this morning. Something wasn't right; she always made sure to call and tell him where she was so he didn't worry, exactly what he was doing now.

He paced relentlessly in the dock-side warehouse; goons that had returned from terrorist activities were watching him warily, standing at attention, ready to flee if given half a chance. He'd regained some control, but his stress, worry and anger were making him unpredictable. He would be ready to lose all control again if anyone looked at him strange. Thinking about it, that crack in the wall looked like it was mocking his need for his better half.

Without a second thought or breath, he pulled out a small handgun and shot the crack, the noise of the gun was resonating and echoing around them, the bullet hitting off the wall and landing on the other side of the room.

Shocked intakes of breaths could be heard in the quiet of the warehouse, the Joker just kept staring down the defiant crack. His shot didn't even make a dent; it just deflected and landed somewhere else. Damn.

"Sle_dge_hamm_er_? _Now_?" He turned to the group of goons and cocked his head at them as he growled the question, more like order, for the heavy weapon. The stupid crack would not survive.

* * *

"Now, I'm going to make this _easy_, where do you _live_?" The stupid manic voice growled in her ear, their breath flicking on her skin. It was still ice-cold, despite the warehouse they were now in, safe from the rain and wind.

"An' I'm goin' to say this one last time ye chancer, I ain't tellin' ye." She gave him a pointed look, exasperated and frustrated; they weren't listening to anything she said, maybe they couldn't understand her. "Now cop on ye maggot."

"Wr_ong_ answer. I just want to know where you live, doll. Is that not _okay _for someone who _saved_ your _life_?" He bent down at the waist to look her in the eye, tilted his head and smiled at her, showing a yellowing set of teeth. He wasn't just frustrating her, he was creeping her out too, and she had strange friends and family.

"Yunno, I think yer right. I live at 15 Cherry- get stuffed ye crazy bastard. Want the postcode?" She smiled sweetly at him, like you do to your parents when you want something. He dropped his smile.

"Oh, I've heard of _there_; is that the _invisible_ house? Lovely _place_ you, uh, got there, doll." He played along to save his ego, but he was clearly not amused; you could hear the anger and frustration in his voice.

"How about... I cut you, for each time you lie or don't answer my question?" He pulled out a pocket knife and tilted the blade in the bulbs light, "That's my kind of game, you see. I know you like mind games, ain't that right, Ireland?" He looked from the silver blade's edge to her, his cold brown eyes meeting her glittering green eyes, dark with fear of him actually going ahead with his game.

"But, ye wouldn't. Ye couldn't. Ye need me an' I won't tell ye one thing if ye come near me wit' tha' blade." That was her only hope and even though she said it with conviction, as much as she could muster, he saw in her eyes the fear she really felt. Her purpose didn't matter to him; she was a play thing to him.

"Do you _really_ believe that? Do you _really _think that would stop _me_? I can _see_ it, in your eyes, you _know_ I would. So, where do you live?" He questioned her, staring into her eyes, reading her reaction, feeding off her fear.

She shook her head once, sharply. He narrowed his eyes at her, nostrils flaring, jaw clenched. They had a battle of wills, staring each other down. Neither of them broke until Joker made the first cut on her arm, straight through her once white, but now muddy brown, woollen jumper. The blade was sharp, the pain just as bad; blood soaked into the sliced fabric, staining it and even the mud red. The cut wasn't deep, but it wasn't shallow either.

"Where do you live?" He asked again, steel and frustration in his voice. She just pursed her lips in silent defiance. She wouldn't give up her family for her own safety. This mad-man was completely backwards if he thought she would.

* * *

She shot up like a rocket, flailing and falling straight off the plush bed, gasping and shaking from her dream.

"Jaysus! That was a quare while ago." She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the dream, slowly gathered her wits and stood. Her brow furrowed, her lips pursed, concentration clear on her face. She shook her head again and walked from her room, heading to explore the apartment some more and make a long distance phone call.

* * *

"Die! Die! Die! Aaggghhhh!"

"What's with him?" whispered one goon to one standing beside him.

"Man, I wouldn't know. Should probably stop hittin' that wall though, it ain't gonna hit back." He whispered back as they watched, half scared, half amused as hell.

"Would you like me to hit you instead?!" came the scream from Joker, having actually heard their conversation.

"Uh, no, sir, uh, boss." They quickly mumbled in unison. They slowly relaxed as the clown went back to his handy work of destroying the mocking crack in the wall, repeatedly hitting it with the large sledgehammer. Chips and chunks flew from the wall and were now splayed over the warehouse floor.

Eventually, after near putting a hole in the grey stone wall and a last war cry, Joker dropped the hammer and slumped. Shoulders hunched, face downcast, he slowly slid down the wall beside the large dent he'd made.

"Find her. At any cost. Find her and bring her back. Now!" He screamed to his goons, sounding rather animalistic. They needed no other prompt to get the hell out of there and not take a second look back at the anguished face of their boss.

* * *

**A/N**

**Did you like it? If you did, please, please, please review!  
**

**I'll give you a cookie if you do ;D  
**

**Do you like the slang? Should I add more? Yes/No?  
**

**Slang-  
**

**chancer- idiot/fool  
**

**cop on- wise up  
**

**maggot- idiot/fool  
**

**get stuffed- a bit like f*** off, but I'd say more polite!  
**

**jaysus- the irish pronunciation of Jesus  
**

**quare- very  
**

**Who is she gonna call? :D  
**

**Wanna find out?  
**

**REVIEW!  
**

**Bye!  
**


	10. Andraste

**A/N**

**'Ello my dearies, here's the next installment!  
**

**Thanks for the review Demiqueen, your continuous support is amazing :D  
**

**Also, I know it's great to have followers and favouriters, but please review!  
**

**I see what you did there, review!  
**

**SWEARING AT THE END, SORRY.  
**

* * *

He sat for countless minutes, going over endless scenario's of Andrea's death, capture or little accidents that could have happened so easily. He was half way between sleep and consciousness when the memory came to him through a cloudy haze.

It consumed him; he could smell the dust, the blood, the pure fear in the air. He could see her water and sweat soaked hair, her blood on his blade, the smears his gloves had left on her ghostly pale skin.

She was all that mattered now. She had the answers he so desperately needed. She was the missing puzzle piece he had needed. Now, he had her. Even if he had her tied to a wooden chair, he had her.

"What's your _real_ name?" He asked quietly as he crouched down in front of her, looking into her eyes carefully, examining each fleck of colour in her irises.

"Andraste Moran." Her actually answering his question surprised him, but he quickly regained face.

"Broth_ers_ or sist_ers_?" He interrogated, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. His balance was, luckily, rather good, but he couldn't stay like this for long.

"Only child." She answered simply. She looked genuinely bored, her eyes rolling at each droll and sneer from him. He stood briskly and grabbed another wooden chair from the side and trailed it over to sit in front of her, the legs scraping and screeching across the floor.

"Favourite colour, band, nickname _and_ place?" He picked up his stream of questions when he sank into the chair, slipping down and getting comfortable.

"Purple. Elastic. Andrea or winner an' in The Grove, wit' my horse." He saw her pale pink lips smirk at her own quip, thinking he didn't understand it. Truthfully, he couldn't really understand her accent, the joke just wasn't funny. He decided to humour her.

"Elastic? Andrea? Winner? What's your horse called?" He liked playing games, laying bait, getting his, uh, victims to open up to him, tell him things they hadn't even told their closest friends. He was a people person, he could mould people into what he wanted, make them think things they wouldn't normally think. He was an artist of the mind, a clown prince of crime; he needed a princess, someone with a little finesse.

"Elastic...band?" He let a manic giggle slip past his lips in spite of himself. He had made a little rhyme, he was like Dr. Seuss. She thought he was laughing at her joke; she really needed taken under his wing. "Andraste means victory in Irish, winner 'cause of tha', Andrea because it sounds like Andraste. He's called Evin, means swift; he's tha' alright." She smiled, a childish dimple appearing on one of her cheeks, obviously remembering her horse.

Well, she seemed comfortable enough talking to him now, he could easily get her to drop an address. "So...doll... where d'you call home?" He appealed again, for what felt like the hundredth time that night. His usually cold calculating brown eyes had softened, his frequent snarl replaced by a gentle smile, his scars looking less malicious and cruel.

"I still ain't tellin' ye." She said pursing her lips at him and shrugging, he wouldn't get it out of her. He couldn't break her. He was going to try though. She just had to trust him.

"Boss?" One of his goons calling for him wrenched him out of his dream. He wasn't sure if he was happy with that or not.

"What the hell do you want?" He growled at them, rising to his feet slowly and cocking his head with narrowed eyes.

"We, uh, found her... sir." They mumbled and stuttered, stumbling over their words and acting like dunderheads.

"Then where is she?" He challenged them, now at his full height. He conspicuously slipped a hand into his pocket and fingered his multiple weapons, his switch blade, a grenade and a potato peeler among the lot.

"She, uh, was slightly busy. She, um, said... she'd be back... at the dock house, later..." He scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. He had almost worried himself sick and she was fine! Alive, free and unharmed, he hoped. They hadn't specified.

"Well, bugger off then. Find more goons to recruit." He commanded and watched them walk off, before slumping back against his dent in the wall.

* * *

"How bloody dare 'e?! Sending his feckin' clowns to fin' me, whatta bloody bastard! No right. Privacy? Don' got none. Prospects? Forget 'bout it, mate. Actual frien's? Nah, left 'em in Ireland. Gah!" She ranted and paced, quite pleased with her multi tasking if nothing else.

5 minutes ago, a troop of Joker's henchmen had near broken down the door to find her. "No polite knocking. No 'Hi, how ya doin'?' Just barge on in, mate. I could be danderin' 'bout in the buff. I'm gonna kill 'im." She snarled like a raging dog, giving up on pacing and decided to shove her shoes back on and go see the dead man walking.

She slammed the dark doors behind her, restraining herself enough to shove the key into the lock and as she jabbed the elevator button growled, "Joker, yer so fucked, mate.".

* * *

**Again, sorry about the language at the end, please don't flame me because of it.  
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**It will happen again, sorry.  
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**I do like reviews, so review me please?  
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**I'll give you chocolate chip cookies! (There ya go Demiqueen ;D)  
**

**Slang-  
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**buff- naked  
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**There isn't that much actually, damn.  
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**Hope you liked it anywho's.  
**


	11. Fecky the Ninth

"He does know it's his funeral when his Missus gets here, right?" One of the many clown masked men whispered to his friend beside him. They'd been a part of Joker's gang for a while and they'd experienced Andrea's wrath more than once, unfortunately.

"I don't even know, Max. Andy has one hell uh'v'a temper, 'member when you didn't make her tea right?" He shook his head slightly while smirking; Max had gotten his ass handed to him by a little lady! Max mock glared at him and punched him lightly on his shoulder.

"Don't remind me! I couldn't feel my leg for a week, haven't walked right since." He whined to his buddy, Sam. The joke was on him though; he had volunteered himself as her sparring partner when she trained.

"We gotta live one!" He shouted to the group of goons, those newly recruited and returned from henchman shopping. They all snapped to attention, watching warily as Andrea stormed in, barely sparing them a glance if only to ask where Joker was and threatening them to stand guard outside the door, while growling like a worked up dog.

Sam and Max shakily pointed to the living area and continued to watch her stomp into the room connecting to the garage, until the door was safely shut.

"Phew. I'd hate being the Joker right now." Max stated a bit too loudly, to Sam, those who overheard agreed.

"Oi, git!" She screeched like a banshee, bursting forward to square the Joker up, despite the 6 inch height difference.

"Fecky the Ninth! Don' ye dare bolt out tha door! I have some'ne keepin' dick, ye hoor's melt!" In the first seconds of her Irish accent slicing through the air and firing like a missile at him, the Joker had headed for the door. "I haven' got a baldy abou' how ye bloody think ye own me and if ye do yer as dense as bottled shite! So, I'd get out of tha' garden, right?!"

Her blood was boiling; he thought he could control her, what an idiot. She was so fuming and angry at him that she couldn't speak anymore, not even her slang could get through the red haze taking over her vision.

Andrea's ragged breath and clenched fists, were urging her to let out the anger she felt. Without noticing, she swung her small fists at the Joker's clown face, hitting its target repeatedly.

She left him bleeding with a broken nose and jaw, nevermind the bruises he would have.

"Don't you dare... think you can own me," She rasped, before fleeing through the door to the garage.

* * *

**A/N**

**Sorry it's rather short, I wanted this to be it's own little chapter and I've been busy :(  
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**I'm gonna do these notes at the end, it makes it easier on me :)  
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**I know the slang is sort of impossible to understand, but I'm here to help that!  
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**Slang-  
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**git- rotten person  
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**fecky the ninth- complete idiot  
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**bolt- run, sort of explained though  
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**keeping dick- look out, like for a teacher if you're doing something you shouldn't in school  
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**hoor's melt- a bit like son of a bitch  
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**haven't got a baldy- no idea, no clue, don't know  
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**dense as bottled shite- really stupid  
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**get out of that garden- yeah right, wise up, don't be stupid  
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**Much thanks to MrTacO and Demiqueen, your support is amazing, thank you!  
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**Have cake and cookies my dearies!  
**


	12. Going Hunting

"Should we go check on him?" Sam asked no one in particular; no one wanted to face Joker, and because everyone had heard Andrea's voice clear enough, he would not be happy.

"Right then, rookies, pair up. Jackson, Marshall, show them take downs and simple blows. I reckon they'll need it. Max, you're with me." Sam ordered, shaking his head at their cowardice. At least he wasn't going to face the clown alone. The goons followed Sam's orders, willing to pass up going toe to toe with the Prince of Crime and risk death.

Sam and Max walked to the living areas door and poked their heads in, only to be greeted by the clown lying on the ground, in a pool of his own blood.

"Boss?" Sam asked hesitantly, he may look unconscious but he was probably awake and looking to kill people.

"_Yes_?" Joker groaned; Andrea had really done a number on him, he didn't even want to move with the pain he was feeling, emotional and physical.

"The newbie's are training, is there anything you would like us to do?" One of his longer term goons questioned him cautiously and rightly so. The one thing he wanted to do was kill. It was all he could think about; watching the light leave the eyes of someone, anyone; hearing someone beg for their pathetic life, beg for mercy he would not give. But he had one specific person he had to kill, and he would make his peace with that before going hunting.

"_Actually_, a, _eh_, mob man, Gam_bol_, n_ee_ds, uh, dea_ling_ with. I _want you_ and your little, heh, bu_ddy_ th_ere_...to come with _me_; pick an_other_ oldie too. No, uh, _new_bies..." He spoke in an eerie voice, seemingly getting more excited as he continued. He was almost giggling when they left him; in fact, hints of his manic laughter drifted through the door as they fetched Rick from the sidelines of the training group.

* * *

It was a sunny afternoon; birds were chirping overhead, cars were driving past her, water splashed languidly against the river banks. It was too peaceful and happy for Andrea's liking and it showed as she tried to stomp dents into the pavement.

She forced herself to pause and breathe, to calm down before getting her tea and cupcake from the café at the end of the bridge. Andrea looked over the side of bridge, down to the water, shining and reflecting the midday sun. It looked so unaffected by all that went on in the city, all the violence, all the maniacs.

She shook herself off; she refused to think about the Joker if she could help it. She turned from the sparkling water and walked the last stint to the café, where she opened the door and smiled at the young man she had saved from death almost three days before.

"You must like me." The guy teased, but smiled back and asked her order, which was the same as usual; a cup of tea and a coconut raspberry chocolate cupcake. She surprised him by offering help him out with the rush period, that was due to start in half an hour or so, as it was lunchtime.

"Only if it's free!" He quipped and laughed, generously accepting her kind offer. The line of customers quickly filled, shouting orders to keep the pair on their toes, but they still managed to talk about random topics like the lovely weather and the controversial District Attorney, Harvey Dent.

"Well, I heard he was threatened with a gun! And in court nonetheless!" Andrea mentioned on the topic of the DA, while she went about pressing buttons on the coffee machine.

"Luckily the gun was Chinese and it wouldn't work, but can you imagine that?" The guy, Steven as he had told her, replied, quite happily gossiping while he served and took orders, once in a while swapping with Andrea.

"It would've been great to see, if not a little startling at the time." She said what she knew he was thinking; it would've been great. Apparently he punched the guy. She knew not to even think of getting near Dent never mind be on his bad side.

As the rush subsided, Andrea realised she hadn't showered that morning, and that she must smell horrible. She blanched at that thought and quickly made an excuse to race back to the warehouse, risking a run in with the Joker to fix her personal hygiene problems.

"Oh, it's no problem, you're been a great help today, really. I'll set aside a to-go cup of tea and the same cupcake as payment, deal?" He smiled happily, waving goodbye to her while he cleaned the tables.

Walking across the bridge, Andrea remembered a few hours back, how she had been furious, confused, hurt, but helping someone and being around someone _normal_ had helped her calm down and see things clearly.

The Joker was just worried, she had summarised. She could've been kidnapped, she never told him where she was, who she was with or anything; she had just left. For a psychopath, that might be extremely unnerving, especially if it was someone you cared a lot about.

Much to her surprise, Joker was not in the warehouse when she arrived, just some new goons who were pathetically trying to learn to fight. She snorted in amusement and nodded to the 'senior' gang members as she passed.

She hummed a song as she picked out new clothes and laid them on the bed, after making the bed and straightening the pillows. She started dancing to the tune on her way down the stairs to the bathroom and started to sing along with the song that seemed to be stuck in her head.

"If you only knew, I'm hanging by a thread, the web I spin for you. If you only knew I'd sacrifice my beating heart before I'd lose you..." She trailed off and continued humming as she hopped out and zoomed up the stairs, hoping none of the goons saw her in a towel.

Andrea dressed quickly and towel dried her frizzy orange hair then slipped her shoes on again. The song in her head changed like a music player and she slowed her walk out of warehouse as the tempo dropped.

"You'll find better love, strong as it ever was, deep as the river runs, warm as the morning sun. Please... remember me...Remember me when you're out walking, when the snow falls high outside your door. Late at night when you're not sleeping and moonlight falls across your floor... when I can't hurt you anymore..." She was quietly singing to herself while crossing the bridge.

She reached the end of the bridge and was yanked out of her pleasant state when she saw the cop cars surrounding the café. Her heart stopped and sped up at the same time. Her stomach clenched and her throat became dry as a desert.

She ran to the door, shoving through the throng of people watching and cops trying to block her out.

"Let me in! Please! Let me in, I know him!" She screamed, but it was no use. A couple of cops held her back and she had to watch as a coroner lifted Steven's lifeless body on a stretcher and lead him out to an ambulance on the road. She began crying; she barely knew the young man but he was so kind. He didn't deserve to die.

"What happened to him?" She asked shakily to a cop who slowly released their grip on her. She stared ahead, on the counter, where she had served not an hour ago, sat her cupcake and tea to-go. It was like a kick in the gut, she should've stayed. She knew he couldn't defend himself; that much was obvious from a few nights ago when the café was attacked.

"He was shot, we don't know who did it yet, but we will find out." A man's kind voice assured her, "How did you know the victim?" He asked cautiously. She turned around and saw the man who still had a gentle hold on her arm. He was late forties with a well-developed greying brown moustache; he wore brown rectangular glasses and grey blue eyes looked at her with concern.

"It's quite the story," she laughed unsteadily, remembering him cowering behind the counter, "but we were friends." He frowned at her in pity.

"Would you like to go get coffee to talk about it? If you knew him you could be of some help to the case and finding the person who shot him." He offered kindly, seeing her taken aback by his sudden death.

"I would, uh, like that..." Andrea mumbled, not quite sure how to react to what had happened.

The man led her from the crowd and walked with her a few blocks until they found another café. It wasn't as nice as the one at the end of the bridge but it was decent; its walls painted a creamy brown with coffee beans painted in random clusters. Chairs were grouped around tables and people sat happily unaware of what had happened; that was Gotham for you.

"How do you take your coffee?" The man asked her and she replied that she would have tea instead. He gave her an amused look, possibly wondering what type of person didn't drink coffee. She smiled at him and indicated to a pair of chairs by the window and he nodded.

She left him in line and happily sank into the comfortable chair, looking out the window at the people passing by. Two men stood at a corner looking shady, hands in pockets and glaring at passerby's; an older man held his wife's hand as they walked from the cinema; two kids chased each other, while being called by their parents. Normal Gotham things, things she was not used to.

"Are you okay?" The man asked her, startling her out of her daze. She nodded and he sat down opposite her.

"I forgot to introduce myself. Lieutenant Jim Gordon," He held out his hand for her to shake and she laughed taking his hand.

"Andrea Moran," she introduced herself and picked up her tea-cup, cradling it in both hands.

"So, you say you were friends with Steven Cooper? How did you know him?" the Lieutenant asked her, getting down to business.

"I pass the café a lot and a few nights back I stopped in for tea and a cupcake," She hesitated on telling him about the attack, after all she most likely killed someone protecting him, "and we got to talking. He mentioned that lunchtime's are busy for the café and today I helped him out. So, I didn't know him well but he was a really nice guy..." Andrea explained, looking into her tea hopelessly. She wanted to help Gordon out, help find the shooter, but she didn't know anything that would be of use.

"Do you know anyone that would've wanted to harm Steven?" He continued and she bit her lip, she really should tell him about the attack but it was Gotham. Places were attacked often.

"Well, I know the other night the café was, uh... attacked. Some idiot shot the windows in and wanted all the money from the register. He didn't get it in the end." She summarised pathetically, she knew that Gordon would be suspicious now.

"Did you see the man's face?" She was right. Gordon's voice had an edge to it, either from the information or lack of it.

"No, I didn't, unfortunately. It was dark and I was kind of scared..." She trailed off, knowing full well she was not scared, she had been pissed.

"Hey, Sam, isn't that Andy? Who's she with?" Max asked his friend curiously. They had dealt with Gambol and were now free to roam for a while.

"I don't know, Max. I wonder what they're doing. I didn't know she knew people in Gotham." He replied suspiciously. The only people Andrea really knew were in the warehouse or dead.

"We should tell Joker, it looks like a date to me." Max stated. They might only be having coffee, or more likely tea in Andrea's case, but that was often how first dates were. Even if the guy she was with looked twice her age.

"That's probably the best idea. He'd want to know. Come on." Sam agreed and they began the walk back to the warehouse.

* * *

**A/N**

**So sorry it took so long to get this up!  
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**Lots happening in my school, some good, some not so.  
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**No slang this time, thought I'd give you a little break ;D  
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**Hope you enjoyed it anyway!  
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**Review please!  
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	13. When Fluorine and Francium React

**A/N**

**Sorry for taking sooo sooo long, but hopefully, this chappie more than makes up for it!**

**The things I do for you, my beautiful readers! I had to have two cups of very strong coffee **

**very late at night ****and start blasting scary music to get hyped enough to finish this!**

**ENJOY!**

* * *

Andrea and Lieutenant Gordon were comfortable in the café and blissfully unaware of the new, incorrect information reaching the Clown Prince. They had moved from talking about Steven's death to families and friends, now that Andrea had relaxed.

"Are you serious?" Andrea questioned the cop, mirth evident in her voice and in the quiet giggle that slipped past her lips.

"Yeah, don't ask me how he managed it, but everyone ended up being covered in talcum powder." He replied, trying to sound like a disappointed parent, but the small proud smile that graced his lips was evidence enough of his love of his son.

"He sounds like a great kid," She said with a smile, "So what about your wife?" She asked, seeing his face crumple ever so slightly.

"She's wonderful, kind, caring, an outstanding mother…" He declared, a faint look of awe on his face, "but she's been worrying about me, with all the hours I'm working due to the increased crime rate, and about the kid's safety." He frowned and a rope, deep within her stomach, twisted and knotted in guilt.

Joker was to blame for the increased crime, there was trouble in this poor man's family because of the clown, and he was probably to blame for Steven's death. Her anger at the clown resurfaced and she quickly took a sip of her cooling tea to assuage it, for now.

"What about you? Do you have another half?" Gordon joked, after seeing her eyes darken and flit about once he mentioned the crime rate; she was possibly remembering her friends' death.

"Uh, sort of… We had a little fight earlier," She answered sheepishly, a smug smile threatening to break out on her face remembering the sound of her fists hitting the Jokers face.

"Aw, that's too bad, what happened?" He asked he kindly; the young woman seemed so nice and friendly, she didn't deserve any romantic fallout.

"He was being a wee bit controlling, and well, I wasn't having that." She smiled narrowly; she had managed to tell the truth, even if it was the cliff notes version.

"I could arrest him, you know. Just say the word and I'll have him in Blackgate." Gordon assured her compassionately, his declaration earning a sound laugh out of the ginger.

"I'll remember that, thanks Jim." She replied once she had subdued her laughter. The police officer's phone beeped then and Gordon announced he had to be off, saying something about finally getting a parcel he'd been expecting. She sent him a quizzical look but said goodbye and decided to walk back to the warehouse.

The sun had now dipped in the sky, licks of amber light still managing to glisten on the river surface. Andrea's light footsteps on the pavement barely registered within the din of the city at dusk. She was passing the café at the one end of the bridge when she saw a purple clad figure in the middle. Her earlier anger at the controlling psychopath flared, thinking of Gordon's family and Steven, who was now lying dead in Gotham's mortuary. She thought for a moment, weighing her options as she neared the Joker, and decided it would be best to pretend she was on good terms with him now, instead of picking a fight.

"Hello, you," She said falsely, but received an eerie silence from the clown. Usually a manic giggle or malicious drawl greeted her, not silence.

"What's wrong?" She asked, slightly on edge, maybe he was off his rocker again, or angry about her outburst earlier? After what seemed like eons, he spoke up.

"_Who_ _was_ _he?_" The purple suit clothed, makeup wearing, knife wielding, bomb throwing, psychotic, manic mass murderer growled at her, low and threatening.

"He? He who?" She questioned, playing him. She had an idea, but she wanted more information out of him.

"The _man_. The _one_ you were _with!" _He screamed like a primal, injured animal, his face contorting in anguish and fury, the two emotions seeming at war with the other.

"An old friend!" Andrea replied hastily, appearing shaken and frightened, when she was really loving this. The Joker was jealous. The Clown Prince of Crime, the primary reason for the rise in crime, for the slashed up bodies lying in morgues over the city, was jealous! For a cruel, cold, uncaring man to feel such a base emotion, it was a demonstration of the Joker's more humane side, the one with actual feelings, the one that was buried deep within his subconscious, so deep even the most talented psychiatrist couldn't find it, but would fall into his messed up psyche. Bully for them, but Andrea Moran was not so spineless.

"Oh!" She called in a singsong voice, "jealous, are we?" She raised a delicate eyebrow at the fuming mad man.

"_Jealous_?! You think I'm _jealous?!" _He roared, spittle flying and veins bulging in his face whilst genuine fear flooded Andrea's veins. She'd maybe gone a little too far.

"Just kidding?" She tried to regain a little footing in which to calm the Joker, but the link between his conscience and his actions had broken and he was set off like a chemical reaction between fluorine and francium. All she could do was sit back and wait for the tantrum to end.

He began spewing rubbish about how she was his and only his and she was not to even think of other men, or women for that matter.

"So I can go for animals?" She asked sarcastically, but perhaps a bit too loud, because he began another tirade of endless things she could not do. She was ready to rip his tongue out of his mouth when he suddenly stopped to reach out something from one of his many pockets.

He pulled out a switchblade and flicked it open, spun it and gently ran his finger along the faintly glinting edge. Andrea's green eyes seemed glued to the glimmering metal, now frightened tremendously at what he was going to do with it.

"Joe? Joker? What're you doing?" Andrea queried nervously, her voice shaking slightly. In the approaching darkness, the Joker looked more menacing than ever, with his head cocked to the side; focus solely on the titanium blade; unnerving silence consuming the atmosphere around them after the recent blow up of speech. Eventually, his obsidian eyes flicked from the knife to hers, and he stalked towards her, like a big cat hunting its prey.

"W_e're_ g_oing_ to pl_ay_ a _game_. We've pl_ayed_ th_is_ g_ame_ _be_fore, _so_ y_ou _kn_ow_ the r_ules_. If you _don't_ _an_sw_er_ my _ques_tions, or _an_sw_er_ inc_orrec_tly, I g_et_ to c_ut_ y_ou_." He sneered at her malevolently, his scars stretching across his face.

"Oh no you feckin' don't!" She hollered and made a break for it, heading back the way she came and making a beeline for the café, which, thankfully, she knew would be empty and could easily get around with her newfound knowledge of its structure.

She could hear the clown's footsteps behind her, possibly a metre or two, not quite catching up after her quick getaway and sudden exit.

"Do you really think you can run from me? I'll find you, you know!" He taunted, voice remaining steady and threatening despite the fact they were now racing around a building and Andrea was slamming multiple doors in his face and jumping out random windows from floors up. Growing up in the hills in the back ass of nowhere did have some positives; superb stamina and speed were amongst the lot.

"Yes, I do actually!" She shouted back, as she jumped onto the pavement outside, leaving the clown staring down at her from the second floor. She barely looked back as she was off again like a rocket, running down the street, in and out alleyways and buildings she knew.

She was just running out of steam when she came to a dead end and heard heavy footfalls not far behind her. She quickly scanned the area for a way out, a place to hide, a weapon to use, anything, but she found nothing that could be of use, unless she could wield a cat-sized rat as a weapon against a knife-brandishing psychopath.

It seemed her luck had run out.

The infamous Dark Knight was beginning his scope of Downtown Gotham, in the Bat-Pod when he heard shouting and a lot of commotion from near the riverside. He immediately drew nearer and saw the Joker running full out after a redheaded girl, seemingly only in her twenties.

Something was not right with that situation, but anything involving the notorious Clown was usually messed up, anyway. Batman rounded on the murderer and was on the chase when he had to stop suddenly so he would not hit either of them with the bike in the abrupt dead end.

The girl looked visibly relieved to see the vigilante, the clown not so. The Joker turned from the girl and turned on the masked man, knife in hand, swinging it blindly in his fury. The girl tried to run away, tried to squeeze past the two fighters, but each time she even came close, the clown seemed to sense it and herd her back into a corner.

"What're you doing, Joker?" The Batman questioned gruffly, and the manic man just laughed crazily and continued slashing, but missed appendages by millimetres.

Finally, one of the well aimed punches on part of the bat landed on the Joker, and he was out cold.

"Are you okay?" He questioned the girl quickly, whilst making sure the clown was really out, before tying him up with rope he'd taken from the Pod.

"Yes, I think I'm fine." She answered him simply, though she did not look it. Her face was pale and her breathing erratic and laboured. She looked lightheaded and unsteady on her feet, a fact proven when she collapsed on the ground before the Batman could catch her.

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**HOPE YOU LIKED IT!**

**If you did, review!**

**And I might have the next chappie up before I go back to school!**


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